


Trying to Translate You Again

by jule1122



Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: Alex Manes Deserves Nice Things, Learning to Be Happy, M/M, Michael Guerin Deserves Nice Things, Minor Maria DeLuca/Michael Guerin, minor alex manes/Forrest Long
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-18
Updated: 2020-04-18
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:26:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23717407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jule1122/pseuds/jule1122
Summary: Michael searches for his own happiness and finds a way back to Alex
Relationships: Michael Guerin/Alex Manes
Comments: 33
Kudos: 221





	Trying to Translate You Again

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Du'énágu juu'tii'da {Don't give up}](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23518663) by [JoCarthage](https://archiveofourown.org/users/JoCarthage/pseuds/JoCarthage). 



> This story is a remix of the first chapter of JoCarthage's amazing story [Du'énágu juu'tii'da {Don't give up}](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23518663/chapters/56403868). Please read that first or this story won't make much sense. More importantly, it is a fabulous story everyone should read.
> 
> There are brief references to Michael/Maria and Alex Forrest in this story. The breakups aren't addressed, but you can assume both relationships were brief and ended amicably. 
> 
> Title is from "The Gold" by Manchester Orchestra

The thing is Michael never forgets about Alex's list. It sits in the back of his mind, and during the occasionally easy, but mostly awkwardly painful process of being friends with Alex, he tries to nudge Alex towards things on the list. Points them out when he can just to see Alex's shoulders relax a bit or see the half smile and eye roll that means Alex is on to him. Paying attention to Alex's happiness makes him more aware of his own, and before he knows it, Michael has his own list.

1\. Isobel's smile-her real one, not the plastic one she hid behind for years.

2\. Max-for the first few weeks after Max was truly back among the living and not just doing his best sleeping beauty impression, Michael's list was nothing but MAX is all caps, but then he said something semi-self righteous, and he slipped back into a single space,

3\. Playing the guitar-the third time Alex left it for him he kept it because it really does quiet his mind like nothing else.

4\. The stars-he can lose hours looking up at the night sky. He doesn’t look for home anymore, his mother isn’t out there waiting for him, but still feels connected to the stars. He doesn't think too hard about why his stargazing usually starts earlier now with the sunset, and why he half expects someone to be sitting next to him.

5\. Fixing things-he's a damn good mechanic because he loves figuring how things come apart and fit back together.

6\. The Wild Pony-The Pony's been his place for years, but he doesn't add it to the list until he and Maria are good again, and he can spend the evening there without any lingering guilt.

7\. Alex's laugh-Alex could have his own list, but Michael doesn't let his mind go there, at least not yet. But Alex's laugh is a thing of beauty and rare enough to steal his breath away. He hates that he rediscovered his love of Alex's laugh when he was with Forrest. Michael tried, and Forrest's ability to make Alex laugh is one of the reasons Michael bit his tongue as often as he did while they were together. He still didn't handle it quite as graciously as Alex handled his time with Maria. He never called Forrest anything but Nazi Guy even after the joke grew old. He took a twisted pleasure in watching Forrest pretend it didn't bother him while Alex gave him that exasperated huff that let Michael know Alex thought he was being ridiculous but wasn't really mad.

8\. Sitting in front of the fire with his favorite beer-it's as close as he gets to Alex's uncomplicated fish

9\. His mother's memories-there isn't much about his mother that isn't colored by pain, but the moments he shared her memories with her are filled with nothing but love. When he can narrow his focus to just those few seconds, he feels a child's pure happiness.

10-Waking up with someone-Michael sleeps better when he isn't alone. One of the best things about his relationship with Maria was spending the night with her. It's also why the first thing he thought of for Alex's list was naps. They rarely had a whole night together, but he loved napping with Alex, loved waking up warm and safe together even if always had a time limit. He thinks about Alex saying he doesn't nap anymore and wonders if he'll get a chance to change that.

“I know what you’re doing,” Alex smirks when Michael hands him a flyer for an open mic night at a bar just outside of Roswell.

“Who said I was trying to be subtle?” Michael watches for Alex’s reaction, looking for signs he crossed a line. Michael doesn't usually care about overstepping boundaries, but this feels different. Alex asking for his help listing things that made him happy wasn’t exactly the same as giving Michael permission to use it.

Alex taps the flyer with his finger before pulling it towards himself. He folds it carefully then tucks it into his jacket pocket. “Thanks.”

“You, uh, can invite people, obviously, but I didn’t tell anyone else, if you don’t want an audience.”

Alex reaches out again, but stops short of touching Michael. “Thanks,” he says again with a half smile. “I mean it.”

Michael eyes the distance between their hands before nodding at Alex and walking away.

“You can’t keep leaving this here,” Michael brings the guitar out with him after he goes back to the airstream for more beers. The second time Alex left it, he’d returned it to Alex’s car while Alex had lunch with Liz. Apparently, he wasn’t going to take the hint.

“Then stop being stubborn and keep it. I know playing makes you happy, Guerin. I remember you told me it quiets your head. I want you to have that again.”

“I don’t want to take your guitar, Alex,” he tries to say it softer this time, not like an accusation. 

“It’s not mine,” Alex shrugs when Michael raises a brow at him. “I mean I have another one. I don’t play that one; I’ve always thought of it as,” he looks away before continuing. “I think of that one as yours. It’s been yours since you stole it. Probably one of the worst decisions you’ve made.”

Alex’s expression turns bitter, and Michael doesn’t want that, doesn’t want more guilt between them. “Hey, no. I’ve always had excellent taste in stolen goods.” The joke doesn’t exactly work, but Alex relaxes a bit. Michael’s grip tightens on the guitar case, and he knows he couldn’t give it back now even if Alex asked. “It’s going to need tuned, but I could play something for you, after.”

“No, not tonight. Your first song should be for you,” he pauses and clears his throat, “or for someone special.”

Alex’s posture doesn’t change, he doesn’t tense or look away, but Michael watches as eyes shutter. It’s how he always looks when he’s around both Michael and Maria. He’s fine with both of them alone, but put all three of them in a room together, and Alex becomes politely distant. He’s so careful to be respectful of their relationship, always increasing the physical space between himself and Michael, and addressing Maria and Michael as a couple. Michael hates it as much as he’s grateful for it.

“Yeah,” Michael tries to salvage the ease they’d had between them. “I’m out of practice, wouldn’t want you to hear how much I’ve forgotten.”

“I should get going.” Alex stands and walks back toward his car. “I have to be on base early tomorrow.”

Michael kicks at the dirt. Alex only brings up the air force when he wants to remind himself of why they are bad for each. It neve fails to get under Michael’s skin, and he bits his lip to keep from yelling at Alex about walking away as soon as things get awkward.

Halfway to the car, Alex stops, shoulders tensing like he heard Michael’s unspoken accusation. He turns back, “Another night though, so you better start practicing. I’ll be expecting your best emo playlist. No country bullshit.”

“Nobody said anything about taking requests, Private” Michael smiles and sends Alex off with a mock salute.

“Stop yawning, you’re making me tired,” Michael kicks Alex’s leg under the table.

“Sorry, I guess I can’t handle all nighters like I used to,” Alex hides another yawn behind his coffee cup.

“Yeah, you’ve really let yourself go,” Michael rolls his eyes. He knows how hard Alex pushes himself, and his current state of exhaustion can’t be attributed to one night of helping Michael sort through dusty boxes for the few files that had actual information on Antar tech. If he had to guess, he’d blame it on the two days Alex was gone before he showed up at the airstream with a trunk full of air force boxes, but he knows better than to ask. Since Caulfield, Alex refuses to let anyone else get involved with the military side of the investigation. No one likes it, but Alex won’t budge.

He hears footsteps approach and hopes it’s Liz with more coffee. They’d hit the Crashdown at the weird time between breakfast and lunch when it’s pretty empty so she’s been more focused on preparing for the lunch rush than on them. He stops himself from making a face when he sees Forrest standing at the end of their table.

“Michael,” he gives him a nod before running a hand across Alex’s shoulders. “This is a nice surprise. I wasn’t expecting to see you today.”

He pretends not to notice the way Alex leans into his touch, looking up at Forrest with a soft smile. “Hey Nazi Guy, you should take your boyfriend home before he falls asleep in his huevos rancheros. I think he needs a nap.”

“I wish I could get Mr. Military to take a nap with me, but it’s not an efficient use of time. Sometimes I wonder if he sleeps at all.” Forrest laughs, but Michael can see by the way Alex tenses that he’s said the wrong thing.

“Anyway,” Forrest continues, not seeming to notice the sudden tension. “I can’t stay. I just stopped in when I saw your car outside. Call me later though. We can have a nice quiet night in if you want” He drops a kiss on Alex’s cheek and is gone as quickly as he came.

Michael slouches in the corner of the booth. “Sorry, I didn’t mean”

“No, it’s ok,” Alex cuts him off. He straightens up, squaring his shoulders, and Michael knows he’s forcing himself to talk. “Sleep is hard. It always has been, and it’s gotten worse. Just keep adding new nightmares to the list.”

Alex starts drumming his fingers on the table, and Michael can’t stop himself from reaching out and placing his hand over Alex’s. “You don’t have to explain anything to me.”

“Nights are one thing,” Alex continues as if Michael hadn’t spoken. “I can prepare. Check the perimeter, lock the doors, go through some exercises my therapist gave me to get in the right mindframe. But naps are pretty much out of the question. That means letting my guard down and being vulnerable at an unplanned time. Being in the military is supposed to train you to sleep anywhere, anytime you get the chance, but I volunteered for a lot of lookout duty and played a lot of solitaire rather than sleep off schedule. The only time I can nap is if I feel safe, protected.”

Alex stops talking, but Michael can’t think of anything to say. He thinks of all the afternoons they spent sleeping together, especially the day a few months back before things went bad again, when Alex had shown up at the airstream on a Sunday morning and left well after the sun went down. He remembers Alex teasingly asking him to make sure he didn’t fall out of the bed before they’d both drifted off. Realizing what that meant is like getting hit in the chest, and he catches himself rubbing at his heart.

“Sorry,” Alex ducks his head. “I must be really tired if I said all that.”

“Don’t,” Micheal tightens his hand when Alex starts to pull away. “Don’t ever apologize for talking to me.” He wants to say more, but Liz does show up then with coffee and even though the moment is broken, neither of them move their hands.

Michael’s tightening the last screw when Alex comes home.

“Guerin?”

“Yeah,” Michael swings the gate back and forth a few times to make sure it moves smoothly before squatting down to check the bottom hinge. “I remembered your gate never shut right, and I thought with your new roommate,” he nods to where Buffy has been watching him from the window, “you might want to take care of that. Don't’ want to worry about her running off every time you let her out.”

“Thanks?” Michael hears Alex open the door and then the sound of nails scratching on the concrete. “Hey, Baby Girl, were you good today? Why don’t you come meet Michael and thank him for fixing your yard.”

Buffy runs up to greet him, and Michael leans against the wall to keep from getting knocked over. He rubs her ears and lets her lick his face.

“Her name’s Buffy.” Alex hangs back, but smiles as he watches them interact.

“So I’ve heard. She’s pretty famous already. I heard Liz and Kyle fighting over babysitting privileges.” Michael stands up and brushes off his pants. Buffy has already made her way back to Alex and is settled at his feet.

“She did try to take off after a squirrel the other day so I really appreciate this. I tried to straighten the latch out a few times, but it didn’t work.”

“Just needed some oil and a little TLC. Next call me before you get out the crowbar and do some real damage.” Michael gathers his tool and heads out, pointedly closing the gate behind him. “And I wouldn’t worry too much about the squirrels. I think she knows she’s got it made.”

Michael find the cassette in the cupboard above his sink labeled in Alex’s neat handwriting “Oral History #3.” He shakes his head and leaves it there for later when he can listen to it uninterrupted.

He thinks about the tape as he goes through the rest of his day. Everything he has of his mother has come from Alex. Good, bad and horrifying, Alex keeps bringing him pieces of her. When it’s something bad, another injustice she suffered at the hands of Project Sheppard, Alex tells him in person. He’ll look Michael in the eye and tell him like a confession, taking every opportunity to point out when a Manes is responsible for her pain. 

But when it’s something good, something that helps Michael flesh the picture he got of his mother in those few precious seconds they shared together, Alex hides it. He’ll leave it somewhere he knows Michael will find without a word. Michael wants to break the pattern, but it’s just another in a long list of patterns they need to break.

It’s late when Michael is finely ready to listen. He locks the airstream and turns off the lights. He sits in his bed, back pressed against the window and closes his eyes. Once he can picture his mother, remember what she looked liked in her memory, he pushes play.

_“Oh, Nora, yes I remember her. She and the other women, Linda? No, you’re right it was Louise, just seemed to appear out of nowhere. They kept to themselves, and of course they weren’t here long. I doubt many folks even knew them. My husband, you see, was a day laborer on the farm, and I used to bring him lunch sometimes. I’d see them there always with that man, Bronson, and the boy, Walt. I guess that’s why they never left the farm, what with the way Louise and Bronson carried on when they thought I wasn’t looking. Doesn’t mean much now, but then, girls like Louise just didn’t take up with a man like. I don’t know where Nora fit in with all that, but she seemed like a good woman. Always friendly and polite Anyone with eyes could see she doted on the boy, and Lord knows he needed it. She would play games with him and read to him. I heard her tell him once he reminded her of her own son. She said she couldn’t wait to bring him home and show him everything she learned. You could tell she was a good mother. Such a shame they way it ended.”_

Michael shuts the tape off. He doesn’t need to hear more even if there is anything else, not right now. He sits for a while just letting this new piece of his mom fill in some of the holes in her image. He knows he’s never going to have the whole picture, but he wants everything little bit he can get. 

Eventually he reaches for his phone to text Alex. He doesn’t say thank you, but instead sends him a link to a journal article on the four sacred mountains of the Mescalero Apache Tribe he found in UNM’s online library.

“Come on, time to call it a night,” Michael pokes Alex’s shoulder until he shuts down the laptop.

It’s not quite dusk when they come up from Michael’s bunker so he sends Alex to the airstream for beer while he starts a fire.

Once they are both sitting, he clinks his bottle against Alex’s. “Another day, another step in dismantling the vast government conspiracy designed to eradicate all alien life from the planet, including mine.”

Alex looks at him like he’s lost his mind and shakes his head. “It was a pretty small step, Michael.”

“I’m in a good mood so don’t ruin it with details. Just shut up and watch the sunset.”

He doesn’t bother to hide his victory smile when Alex turns away from him and watches the sky turn colors. The sunset is beautiful, but Michael keeps looking over at Alex, watching him relax as the sky darkens.

Once the sun sets, Michael’s attention turns to the stars. It’s a clear night, and the stars are almost overwhelming. He turns his face up to them like people do with the sun and soaks in their light.

He hears Alex shift and start to stand so he uses his powers to send another beer to him. He doesn’t move, doesn’t look away for the stars to see Alex. He can’t. He just knows he needs this, Alex and the night sky, a silence that is finally comfortable between them. He’s not ready to give it up. “Stay,” he says just loud enough for Alex to hear.

Alex does.

Michael spots Alex leaving the Wild Pony just as he gets out of his truck. He’s still wearing his uniform and while he’s not quite limping, the way he’s walking isn’t right.

“Hey,” Michael calls. He can tell by the way Alex startles he hadn’t noticed him. “Want to go back in and grab a drink?”

“Not tonight. Maria needed me to fix Mimi’s computer again; I was just dropping it off.”

“Another virus? She needs to lay off the porn.” Alex doesn’t laugh and once Michael’s in front of him he can see how tense he is. “Everything ok?”

“Yeah, it’s just,” He’s standing at parade rest and looking at a spot just above and to the left of Michael’s face. “My father was on base today.”

“What did he do?” Michael’s immediately ready to fight, cursing every time he had a chance to kill Jesse Manes, and he didn’t take it.

“Nothing, he doesn’t need to do anything. Just seeing him is enough to remind me that no matter what we do, no matter what _I_ do, he always wins. I’ll never be able to fix what he’s done. The Manes’ legacy always prevails.”

“Alex, no, you know that’s not true.” He grabs Alex’s arm and tries to force him to look at him. “You are nothing like” That’s as far as he gets before Alex cuts him off.

“Michael, please don’t.”

He does look at Michael then, and the look in his eyes has Michael dropping his arm and taking a step back. He feels the weight of their history, the irony of how trying to do better sometimes is just a reminder of how much they hurt each other. How when Alex tells him he is staying sometimes all he can remember is how it felt when he left. How sometimes when he tries to tell Alex he’s nothing like his father, all Alex hears is the times Michael used his name against him in anger. Neither of them are up to fighting their past in the parking lot of the Wild Pony so he nods his agreement to let this go.

“It’s just a bad day,” Alex tries to smile. “I’m going to go home, take a shower and cuddle with Buffy.”

He really does smile when he mentions Buffy, and Michael wonders what she replaced on Alex’s list or if she is just a category of her own. “Give her an extra treat and tell her it’s from me. I need to stay in her good graces.”

“Sure thing, Guerin. I’ll see you around.”

Michael watches him walk away and feels as tired as Alex had looked, but for once he knows what to do. He gets back in his truck and heads to the Crashdown.

Almost two hours pass before Michael finds himself at Alex’s door. Alex looks better when he answers, still tired and leaning on his crutch more than Michael would like, but better. Dressed in a worn t-shirt and sweatpants, hair soft from his shower, he looks young and vulnerable, and Michael wants to pull him into his arms and protect him from the world. He thrusts the bag he brought with him at him instead. “Here, I brought this for you.”

Alex gives him a puzzled look, but steps aside and waves Michael in. Buffy looks up from her dog bed, but seeing it’s Michael is content to go back to sleep. Michael stands nervously off to the side when Alex sets the bag on the counter and opens it. He pulls out a wax paper wrapped bundle and gasps when it opens to reveal still steaming fish and chips.

“Michael, this smells just like Fados’. Where did you get this?” He looks delighted.

“Try it first, and then I’ll tell you.” He waves Alex away when he tries to hand him a plate, but does sit next to him at the breakfast bar. He watches fondly as Alex devourse half of it before even looking at him.

“This is so good, you have no idea.”

“I’ve been taste testing this for months so I know it’s good, but what I need to know is if it is as good as Fados.”

“Better. Michael, did you make this?”

“Hell no, that is all Arturo. I, uh, convinced the bar in DC to give me the recipe, and Arturo took it from there. Once he found out they had a place in Dever, he kept sending Rosa on road trips to do comparisons until he sure it was perfect.”

And suddenly Alex’s hands are framing his face and they’re kissing and it’s perfect until Alex pulls away.

“Sorry,” his hands are still on Michel’s face, thumb stroking his cheek, but his eyes are darting around the room, looking anywhere but Michael like he thinks he did something wrong. “It’s just I love you. I always have, and no one has ever cared for my happiness like you do. And I want, I want to do that for you, but I don’t know if I can.”

“Alex,” Michael takes his hands and holds them. He looks into Alex’s eyes and thinks about guitars and stolen afternoons in the bed of his truck, he thinks of naps and stargazing, he thinks of his mother and alien ships, he thinks of sacrifices and quiet conversations. “You’ve been trying to lead me to happiness since we were seventeen. I just never knew what happiness looked like, but I’m figuring it out. You said you’d wait for me, but I’m done waiting if you are.”

Alex pulls him close, cradling him like he’s something precious. He feels Alex breath against his hair, knows he’s saying something, but the words are lost in the overwhelming haze of finally being where he belongs. Later he all he remembers is how good it feels to have Alex in his arms, to be able to touch him and look at him without holding back. He remembers kisses, first frantic and then reverent. He remembers all the “I love you’s” pressed into each other's skin. He remembers laughter when their eagerness makes them clumsy as they relearn all the ways they fit together. He remembers falling asleep with his head resting on Alex’s chest and waking up to more kisses. He remembers happiness.

**Author's Note:**

> If you've made it this far, thank you for reading. This is the first thing I've written in years so all the rustiness and mistakes are mine.


End file.
